


(Baby Let Me Be Your) Last First Kiss

by wincestplease



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Date, First Kiss, M/M, jealous!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 22:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3151046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wincestplease/pseuds/wincestplease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sammy's got his first date tonight.<br/>And damn if Dean isn't fucking pissed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Baby Let Me Be Your) Last First Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Hey ya'll! So this is sort of a headcannon from Dark Side of the Moon, when Sam's in Heaven reliving a Thanksgiving dinner he remembers at a girlfriends house as one of his best days. I decided to rewrite why he thought it was a good day. (: Enjoy!

Sam adjusts his plaid shirt for the last time, smoothing it down, along with his longish hair, flicking it out of his eyes with annoyance. Maybe Dean was right—he should have cut it.

 He takes five deep breaths, in through his nose, and out through his mouth, closing his eyes. _Everything is going to be fine,_ and then walks out of the bathroom, where John and Dean are arguing feverishly.

“He’s way too young! What if it’s a trap! We don’t know this girls parents, it could all be some con to get Sammy alone, and then they’ll deep fry him extra crispy!” Dean hisses, his body rigid.

“You were younger than him when you started going out to see girls.” John says slowly, though Sam can read the anger in his face clear as day, and he doesn’t fail to notice the way his father’s hands are curled into stubborn fists at his sides. Dean is frustrating him. “I wouldn’t be letting Sam go if I was suspicious of this girl and her family. And even if that were the case, even if it was a trap, _which I am telling you it’s not,_ Sam is a good fighter. He can take care of himself, and he’ll call if there’s trouble. Won’t you, Sammy?”

“Yes, of course.” Sam sniffs, holding his chin up before Dean can argue further. He’s tired of being treated like fragile glass. He could take care of himself.

 John and Dean turn to him, wearing very different expressions of mixed emotion. John looks mostly impressed and amused, and Dean is leaning more towards the side of quietly contained anger and…horror.

 John chuckles, looking fondly at his youngest boy, eyes twinkling with the memories of his own first date, of Dean’s. “Are you ready to go, son?”

“Yes sir,” Sam says proudly. John seemed happy for Sam, and happy on John Winchester is a very rare occurrence. Sam decides he likes it.

“Dean, could you drive Sam? You can take the impala.” John murmurs. He knew that letting Dean drive the prized Impala, especially when Dean just got his license, would be very persuasive. “Bobby called, and he wants to meet me. He thinks he found something on the nest we’re hunting. He’ll be here to pick me up soon.” The nest of vampires, of course. John and Bobby had been working night and day at that case, it was a bigger nest, too.

 Sam couldn’t wait to get away from the things that haunt nightmares, and pretend to be normal, for once, even if only for a little while. He needed a break. He _deserved_ a break.

“Fine.” Dean said, sounding angry. “Let’s go, kid.” Dean stalks off, without saying another word, not waiting to see if Sam is following.

But he is, of course, closely on Dean’s heels just like he’s been doing his entire life, and when Dean slides stiffly into the Impala’s driver side, Sam gets shotgun, which is unusual. Dean always gets shotgun, and Sam rides in the back while Dad drives.

Dean starts the car, and Sam can’t help but smile.

“The hell are you grinning about?” Dean grumbles, peeling hastily away from the motel, eyeing Sam sidelong.

Sam shrugs. “I don’t know, Dean. It’ll just be nice, I think. I really like Kate, I think she’s nice, and real pretty. And her folks seem nice, too. I think a thanksgiving dinner with them will be really fun. I’ve never had one before, you know.” He says, half to himself, gazing at his lap.

“Sure, we’ve had lots of thanksgiving dinners, Sam.” Dean sounds defensive.

“Fast food doesn’t count, Dean.” Sam sighs, looking out the window as houses blurred by. Dean was speeding, but Sam didn’t tell him so. Dean probably knew, and didn’t care. He always said that traffic laws were _just suggestions._ “I mean a _real_ dinner, homemade, with turkey and stuffing and homemade apple pie for dessert...” Sam trails off longingly. It seemed too good to be true.

Dean hits the steering wheel, hard. “Dammit, Sammy!” He says sharply, making Sam jump.

“What the hell Dean?” Sam demands, swallowing. Why was his brother so upset? What had he done? The rage had come out of seemingly nowhere.

Dean opens his mouth, then shuts it, looking grim, staring out the road like it had offended him personally. “Nothing, Sam. Fucking nothing. Forget it. Just…forget it. What did you say the address was?”

Sam shudders once. It’s not like Dean to act like this. “234 Water Street?” Sam whispers, making it seem like a question. Dean veers a sharp left, tires squealing. “Well would you look at that.” Dean muses unhappily, stopping the car sharply so that Sam gets a little jolt forward. “We’re here.”

“Uh. Yeah. There’s Kate.” Sam smiles, waving to a tall girl with blonde hair, who stands on the porch. “Thanks for driving me, Dean. I’ll call you to pick me up, okay?”

“Be safe, Sammy.” Dean replies curtly, watching his little brother nod, and dash off to meet the girl halfway. As they walk up the driveway together, Dean watches with anger as Sam timidly laces his fingers with hers, and she pecks him the cheek for reward.

He can take this anymore—it’s too much. He backs up the impala, completing a hasty U-turn, heading back to the motel, grinding his teeth together.

Why is he so angry? It’s a damn good question. Sam was happy, which by default, meant Dean should be happy too, right? It always had before. He loved seeing Sam’s smile. Of course he did. But…but that’s not it. It’s the reason behind Sam’s smile. This time, it’s not him. In fact, the reason behind Sam’s smile is the distance he puts between himself and Dean and their father, John. Sam’s smile is about a normal life, a life that didn’t include his older brother.

And Dean was _jealous_.

Not jealous like a brother might be jealous of a cute girl his brother is taking out. Not jealous of how his brother can get practically any girl to like him—Dean’s got no problem with that…it’s a Winchester thing, he’s pretty sure… But jealous as in… _he_ wanted to be the one Sam was dressing up to see. _He_ wanted to be the one Sam is so excited about spending time with. He wanted to be the one holding hands, the one kissing Sammy. Not her.

She didn’t _deserve_ him. She doesn’t know what he’s done, or what he’ll do. She doesn’t understand Sammy like Dean does. Dean knows Sam better than anyone in the entire world, better than Dad, better than Bobby…anyone. Only Dean knows every single one of Sam’s facial expressions—and adores them all. Only Dean knows just how Sam gets scared in the middle of the night from nightmares, and only Dean knows how Sam crawls into Dean’s bed, hugging himself tightly to his big brother. Only Dean knows how smart Sam is, how far he’s going to go.

Only Sam can make Dean feel loved. When Dean comes back from a hunt with dad, only Sam, safe and chewing his fingernails off with worry, can make Dean feel better, can restore Dean’s faith that maybe, just _maybe,_ his mother wasn’t just spewing fairy tales when she spoke about angels watching over him.

Because if they weren’t watching, how else would Dean be able to spend so much time, to be so close with, a good person, like his Sammy? How else would he be alive after all the times he’s come so close to death, if not for _something_ keeping him here to look out for his kid?

Sammy’s got the sort of smile that’ll make you believe in a higher power.

And Sammy _is_ Dean’s. The same blood courses through them, of course. Dean held him when Sam was just a child, and the moment his mother placed Sam into his arms, Dean knew with certainty that was absolute, Sam was his. And he would always be _his._ No one could take that away from Dean. No one could change the fact that Sam was _his_ brother before he was anything else, his brother before he was top of his class or a lanky teenager.

 _So_ _what_ if it’s not normal? He didn’t care that a brother feeling the way Dean did about Sam wasn’t normal, he felt it, and that’s that. He couldn’t stop it, not now. It’s come this far already to turn around and start denying that he was in fucking love with Sam.  

But Sam...Sam is oblivious. He doesn’t notice the way Dean gets when Sam speaks about other girls, or dating, or love, or anything besides being with Dean. He doesn’t get how happy Dean is when Dad leaves them alone together, because Dean gets to spend time with Sammy, gets to drop little hints about how he feels, like rubbing Sam’s head affectionately, putting a hand at the small of his back to guide him as they walk through crowds. Little gestures that remind the public eye, ‘ _this guy is mine, so don’t even think about it.’_

No…Sam doesn’t understand. But one day, maybe one day, Dean will make him understand. Maybe one day, Dean can _show_ him, give him a hug, building up to a kiss, and then…who knows? But Sam’s gonna know how Dean feels. He just will. Dean will make sure of it.

*

“May I use your phone?” Sam asks politely, when he’s finished his meal. “I’d like to call my brother to pick me up now.”  Beneath the table, his hand is linked with Kate’s and he likes that, but there’s no jolt, no real _electricity,_ not like when Dean touches him, or brushes his hair back from his face…those little gestures drive Sam crazy in a way a brothers touch never should.

It’s not exactly unpleasant, but her hand is sort of clammy and her thumb keeps rubbing little circles over his hand but her fingers are much too soft and way to calloused to feel right. Not like Dean’s.

Sam’s love for Dean was strong, undeniable, and utterly _impossible_.

Dean would never guess, would never even _think_ that Sam would feel how he does. Of course, why would he? He’s clearly seeing girls. He’s doing everything he can to make Dean think anything _but_ the truth, because if he knew, and he rejected Sam…well Sam just didn’t think he’d be able to take it. And having Dean with limitations was a hell of a lot better than not having Dean at all, he was sure.

“Of course you can, sweetheart. Are you heading home so soon? We just finished dinner…” Mrs. Leer frowns.

“I’m really sorry to have to eat and go,” Sam lies in an apologetic tone. He’s a good liar. All the Winchester’s are. He’s also extremely talented in the art of _making people like you._ Dean was less talented in that area, mostly because he was so brutally honest all the time, but he made up for it in other areas. “But I have a really strict curfew. My dad won’t be pleased if I’m home any later than 8:30.”

 _More like Dean would kick my ass if I stay any later,_ Sam thinks to himself.

Mr. Leer chuckles. “Yes, well, that’s very good parenting, I think. And very respectful of you for making sure you’re supposed to be home. Thank you for coming, Sam. It was a real pleasure meeting you. You seem like a very intelligent young man.” He says with a fond smile Sam’s way.

Sam returns it. It’s tight, and forced, but if they notice they don’t bring it up.

“No, thank _you_ , this meal was delicious. We’re not one for traditions, my family, so this was a first. You’re cooking is amazing, Mrs. Leer. Really.”

She blushes appropriately. “Why thank you so much, Sam, that’s very kind of you. I’m glad you liked it. The phone is in the kitchen, by the way.”

Sam nods, and Kate squeezes his hand tightly once before letting go. Sam stands up, giving a smile to them all, before heading for the phone. His cheeks fucking hurt.

He dial’s Dean’s cell, praying he’ll pick up. Being stuck here with this overly-accepting overly-happy family was starting to give Sam the creeps. No one was _that_ happy. No one.

To his relief, Dean answers on the first ring, like he was waiting around for Sam to call. Sam wouldn’t really be surprised if that _was_ the case. He’d seemed so convinced that Kate’s family was up to something unnatural. “Sammy?”

“Dean.” Sam mutters. “I’m ready to be picked up now, if you don’t mind.” He wasn’t sure if Dean was still angry or not.

“Of course, Sam.” Dean sounds eager. His voice isn’t as tight as it was before, which is a good sign. In the background, Sam can hear the purring of the Impala’s engine come to life.  Had Dean been waiting in the car? “On my way.”

“Thanks.” Sam murmurs, hanging up. He stares at the phone before walking back into the dining room, where Mr. and Mrs. Leer are seated drinking coffee, though Kate is nowhere.

“Where did she…” Sam frowns, looking around.

Mrs. Leer winks. “She’s out on the porch, dear.”

“Uh, right.” Sam says. “Thanks again for having me over. I know this must’ve been a lot of work, but I really appreciate the invitation.” Sam says truthfully. It _had_ been nice, even if the family was a little strange.

“Thank you very much, honey.” Mrs. Leer grins warmly. “Come again anytime you’d like, you’re always welcome.”

“Yes ma’am.” Sam agrees absently, knowing that the Winchester’s will kiss this town goodbye in another few days or so. They always do, never staying in one place for long. He’ll never see these people again.

Sam walks out and onto the porch, where Kate is waiting, wearing a knitted cardigan over her outfit to protect herself from the bite of the cold air.

“Hey.” Kate says softly. Her voice is soft itself. Nothing like Dean’s gruff demanding tone. “Come sit?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Sam mumbles, sliding down next to her. Instantly, her hand finds his, and even though he doesn’t want to give her the impression he’s planning to stay, because he doesn’t want to hurt her, he holds her hand right back.

“I really, really like you, Sam.” She admits, her brown eyes burning with truth. Despite the fact that  her eyes aren’t green, they are very nice. Determined, like they’d flare into a flame if you dare go against her. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I _am_ the one who invited _you_ here, you know.  I had a reason. I saw you in class…and I liked you. But now that I know you, now that I really know you…I like you even more.” She says, blushing just a little.

Sam frowns softly at that. She didn’t know him, she didn’t know a thing about him. She probably didn’t even know that his mother was dead, or that his brother is Dean from school. She doesn’t know his favorite colour. She doesn’t know how to read his face, like Dean does. She can’t tell the difference between his lies and his truths…no. Only Dean can do that. She knows him only from the façade he puts on for the rest of the world to see.

Sam Winchester is a stranger to this girl.

“Kiss me?” She asks, her voice husky.

Sam swallows. He’s never kissed anybody before. Not on the lips. Not like this. He wanted to save his first kiss, save it for…for someone. But he couldn’t say _no._ He didn’t have the heart. How could he? Kate probably never even considered the fact he might deny her.

So he closes his eyes, and lets Kate lean in, their lips centimetres apart when—

_‘honk, honk!’_

The Impala horn is beeping impatiently and continuously, until Kate pulls away, smiling sheepishly, looking slightly annoyed and blushing. “Perfect timing, right? Maybe tomorrow we can pick up where we left off,” She laughs. “I’ll see you at school, right, Sammy?”

Sam wets his lips. “Sam.” He corrects, standing abruptly. The one thing he hated was being called Sammy by anyone other than Dean. That was the way Dean was affectionate to Sam, it was Sam’s call home.

“What?” Kate frowns, looking confused.

“My name is Sam, not Sammy.” He says firmly, leaving no room for error.

She blushes. “Oh, uh, sorry, I guess I just--”

Dean pokes his head out of the window. “Sammy! Let’s go! Dad’s waiting up!”

“He calls you Sammy?” Kate chuckles like she understands him. Like Dean is some inside _joke_ they share. “I bet that drives you insane.”

“No.” Sam says, growing frustrated for some reason. “He’s allowed to call me that.”

And without another word, Sam runs down the drive way and ducks into the Impala as if a supernatural thing is chasing him.

And Dean speeds out of the driveway without another word.

Once Kate’s house is safely behind them, Dean turns to Sam, looking angry. “Did you kiss her, Sam?”

Sam is startled by the question. “Wh-what?” Sam stammers. “What are you talking about, Dean?”

“Answer the question, Sam.” Dean demands, his eyes guarded. He doesn’t look at Sam, just the road.

“Why do you care?” Sam mumbles, looking away, out the window.

“Because your first kiss shouldn’t be with _her!”_ Dean cries, like it’s obvious.

“Oh really, Dean? If not her, then who? It’s not like I’ll be getting serious with any girl until I can get away from Dad. All we ever do is leave girls behind. All we ever do is leave _everything_ behind.” Sam growls, crossing his arms over his chest. Whatever was up with Dean, (though Sam would never admit it) he found it kind of adorable. Dean was almost acting… _jealous_.

“And that’s how it should be.” Dean says sternly. “Any girl who you think is worth choosing over your family is not the girl for you.”

“I didn’t kiss her. I was about to, then you showed up, honking.” He admits, voice hard.

Dean looks shockingly relieved, making Sam’s heart jump a little. Did his big brother really care that much about him? “Thank god,” He breathes.

“It wasn’t like she was a monster, Dean. She was just a girl. Why would you have cared if I kissed her?” Sam asks under his breath. In the darkness, he’s blushing 50 different shades of scarlet. He’s trying to do…something. Prompt Dean into admitting something, maybe.

Dean suddenly pulls over to the shoulder of the road and his eyes go dark, pupils blown wide. “Because _I_ want to be your first kiss, Sammy.”

Sam let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, feeling his heartbeat speed, his palms dampen.

Had he imagined it, or had Dean _really_ said exactly what Sam had wanted to hear?

The very idea of it seemed impossible.

Sam turns to face him, almost scared to read his brothers facial expression. But when he does, Sam’s pleased, so say the least. Dean looks nervous, probably as nervous as Sam is, but Dean is determined. He wants this. And he’s glad he said it.

“Wh-what?” Sam stammers, wanting to hear it one more time. Just because he knows that when he’s alone, he’ll replay this moment over and over again, and he’ll reimagine it going a thousand different ways.

“You heard me, Sam.” Dean says, his jaw muscle jumping. Dean unclicked his seatbelt, and then reaches over and undoes Sam’s, like when Sammy was just a kid, and he couldn’t do his own. “I want to be your first kiss.”

“I thought…” Sam swallows, looking at the leather upholstery. “I thought I was a freak for feeling that way about you, Dean. But I do, you know.”

Sam hears Dean’s intake of breath. He didn’t expect it? As if he didn’t see the way Sam admired everything did. As if Dean, who notices _everything,_ didn’t notice the way Sam itches for chances to sleep beside him As if.

“Well at least we can be freaks together, then.” Dean says, his voice breaking.

And Sam raises his eyes to look at Dean at the same time Dean slides over closer to Sam.

 _Just 7 seconds,_ Dean reminds himself. _7 seconds of insanity every day, is all you need._

Well, he’d be damned if he spent his 7 seconds doing anything but _this—_

And with a new found determination to be utterly insane, Dean shoves away the last inches that separated their lips, effectively crushing his lips to that of Sam’s.

Sam’s surprised at first, his entire body rigid. “Dean!” Sam gasps into the elder Winchester’s mouth. And for a split second, Dean is sure Sam will shove him away. But then he relaxes, his hands sliding easily around Dean’s neck, welcoming him.

Sam was a little awkward at kissing, his mouth a little too still, a little too timid, but Dean loved every second, content with teaching Sam how to use his lips as a weaponto make Dean weak, until Dean wanted more than these light little kisses.

Dean runs his tongue along Sammy’s lips, asking permission. When it’s granted, Dean’s tongue enters eagerly, playing war with Sam’s baby tongue, which is small and flickering, letting Dean take control of the kiss without a fight. And Sam tastes like apple pie, which is one of Dean’s favorite tastes, making Dean want to lick around inside Sammy’s mouth even more, until Sam pulls away, gasping for air.

Dean lets him pant for a few seconds, before asking, “How was that for a first kiss, Sammy?” Dean asks smugly.

Sam replies in a husky voice, still panting from the breathlessness of the kiss. “Damn you, Dean. Damn you straight to hell.”

Dean is shocked by this response, and he doesn’t really know how to respond. When he opens his mouth to say something, Sam only smirks, drawing in closer, to kiss his brother again, sneaking in when Dean’s mouth was an open invitation, literally.

Against Dean’s lips, synced with his own, Sam whispers. “I love you, Dean.” And yeah, they’d basically both admitted it, but to hear it in actual words did funny things to his heart.

Dean knows his line, it’s the one he’s been dying to say all this time. “I love you too, Sammy.” He says, making it sound like a vow. “Always.” 


End file.
